


Revenge is a Dish Best Served Sexy

by lumbeam



Series: Michael and Amanda's Cuckolding Adventures [2]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Bondage, Cheating, Cuckolding, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Revenge Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumbeam/pseuds/lumbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Michael cheats, Amanda gets back at him in the best (and worst) way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge is a Dish Best Served Sexy

**Author's Note:**

> So this is technically a second part to my cuckolding saga, but it can also be a standalone work. I just think that Trevor and Amanda have a lot of common ground between them, and I wanted to take it one step further. ;) Enjoy!

The sun shines through the stained glass balcony windows. Amanda wakes up slowly, with a bit of a headache. She drank too much wine last night, but it’s nothing that an aspirin won’t fix. Despite the slight hangover, it feels natural for her to get up at the crack of dawn. For the longest time, Amanda lamented that she wasn’t getting out there enough. She wanted more friends, a community to call her own. Tracey finally suggested just going to a morning yoga class, which seemed to make all the sense in the world. It’s been quite a while that she’s been doing this, maybe six months. It’s hard to tell as one sunny day in Los Santos is no different from the next.

She has a light breakfast and she jumps into her red convertible to go to her class. Along the way, she bops to Non Stop Pop and even sings when she’s not stopped in traffic. Today is shaping up to be a pretty good day.

She gets there a few minutes before the class starts. Catching the eyes of her friends, she goes on over and lays out her mat right next to theirs. Vanessa is one of her closest friends here. She’s in her early thirties, olive skinned, short dark hair, and a short stature. She and Amanda first bonded over trashy reality tv, but soon it turned into going out to coffee and even having her over for dinner a few times. She hasn’t let her in on everything, but she has definitely bonded with her over troubles with her marriage, her children, and what she wants to do in Los Santos. Vanessa, on the other hand, laments about finding a relationship, dealing with her stressful office job, and being a dog walker in her part time. Amanda remembers Michael saying that he thinks it’s great she’s out making friends and that he should do the same now that he’s re-retired.

There are other people she’s friends with in the class, such as the pale lanky woman named Frances, the soccer mom named Katie, and the quiet mousey woman named Kim. She makes nice with them and she goes out for coffee sometimes, but she’s not as close to them as she is with Vanessa.

"Hey, Vanessa!” Amanda says sweetly.

"Oh, hi Amanda! How was your weekend?”

"Well, you know, the usual. I went shopping, tried to meditate….got drunk instead. I had the house to myself for most of the weekend, so it was nice to be able to have control of the tv for a change. How about yours?”

"Well,” Vanessa says, "It was pretty good. I got to walk a bunch of dogs and I also got laid...a _lot_.”

" _O_ _hhhh_ ,” Amanda smirks, "Someone had some fun! I hope it was good!”

Vanessa sort of laughs. "It definitely was. He really knew what he was doing. Let’s meet up with the girls for coffee after class! I'll tell you all about it then.” She winks at Amanda.

Amanda nods. "That’d be great!”

Olga, the yoga instructor, comes into the room. She’s an older woman, the kind of impossibly fit 70 year old woman that still looks good in a leotard. (Michael asked Amanda not to have a guy as her instructor.) She talks quietly and serenely, and she puts on some background music of waves crashing on the shore. This class has been a fucking miracle for Amanda, and this day is no different. She can feel the stress melt away from her soul as the class goes on.

\--------------

After her session, Amanda meets up with her friends in her class. She shows up late because she insists on changing into a nicer outfit. She gets to the Bean Machine near the yoga studio. Her friends already have a table.

"Amanda, hey!” Vanessa says as Amanda sits down. Amanda says her hellos to her friends.

"Vanessa was telling us about her weekend.” Frances said with an air of secrecy.

"Oh, yes,” Amanda says, "Do tell!”

"Well,” Vanessa says, leaning into the table. The other women follow suit. "There I was, lying back on the hotel bed, legs in the air. He’s just _pounding_ me into the silk sheets. And I'm screaming _so_ loud, I mean like, _screa-ming._  We had a few people file _noise_ complaints, it was so crazy. We just fucked, like, so many times. Afterwards, he had to tie me up and _gag_ me so we wouldn’t get kicked out of the hotel. It was tough for me to go into downward facing dog today without getting...distracted.”

Katie, Frances, and Kim  are eating it all up, so much so they’re probably going to think about it later when they’re spending time with their shower heads.

Amanda has had crazier weekends, but she doesn’t want to steal Vanessa’s thunder. She looks around the table and asks, "Wh-who was it?”

The women all look at Amanda. "Oh, shouldn’t you know?” Katie asks Amanda. 

Amanda laughs a little. "Should I?”

There’s a pause amongst all the women. "Amanda, I thought you knew.” Frances says quietly.

" _K_ _ _ne_ w. What. _” Amanda says, annoyance seeping into her tone.

"I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Katie says with a hint of incredulity to it.

"Just fucking tell me!” Amanda finally says, maybe a bit too loud. People at the adjacent tables look at her judgmentally.

“...YourhusbandfuckedVanessa.” Kim quickly whispers to her.

" _Wh_ _at?_ ” Amanda asks.

"Y-your husband, fucked Vanessa.” Kim says only a little bit louder.

Amanda falls silent before slowly turning her head back to Vanessa. "Really." 

Vanessa is starting to squirm a little in her seat. "He said the two of you had an arrangement...something about you being a cuckquean? And that it was totally okay?”

"Oh, _of course he said that_.” Amanda narrows his eyes at Vanessa. As she sees her good friend’s eyes turn soft and apologetic, she realizes that she’s about to take it out on the wrong person. She backs up before sinking her claws into Vanessa and relaxes in her seat.

"Amanda, I didn’t know. I'm sorry.” Vanessa says to Amanda, and it’s a genuine apology. Having been told years upon years of shallow "sorry"s from Michael, she knows a true apology when she hears one.

"Well...at least you had fun with him.” She slightly smiles before her friends mercifully change the subject. Amanda, silently fuming, doesn’t say much for the rest of the get together.

She pulls Vanessa aside after the other women leave and asks her if she has proof. Sure enough, she and Michael took so, so, so many pictures over the weekend. Pictures of her sucking his cock, him eating her ass (which he has _never_ asked Amanda to try), her tied up, pictures of them making out, and so on. Seeing the pictures didn’t make her more angry, but rather satisfied that she caught him. Vanessa reluctantly sends the pictures to Amanda’s phone.

Amanda says her goodbyes to Vanessa after insisting that she still wants to be friends (as long as she doesn’t fuck her husband anymore). She sits in her convertible for a long time, trying to decide on the next course of actions. She doesn’t want to leave again as it would throw off her whole yoga routine. She needs something more drastic. But first, she decides to confront Michael about it.

\--------------

She gets home in the early afternoon after stopping to get another coffee. Michael is at the kitchen counter perusing the newspaper. He likes to appear that he’s up to date on current events, but he just reads the comics and box office numbers.

"Did your class run over or somethin’?” he asks, glancing at the clock in the kitchen.

Amanda sips her latte.

"I just had a nice conversation with Vanessa and the girls after class.”  
  
"What about?” Michael asks with feigned interest after a brief pause, leaning against the counter.

"Oh, Vanessa mostly talked about her weekend. It was the usual stuff, walking the dogs, getting groceries, getting pounded by you--”

Michael turns toward Amanda. “ _What?_ ” He asks in a stern voice.

Amanda doesn’t flinch. "You heard me. She went in detail about how you tied her up and banged her all weekend. But where did you say you were again?”

"I was...out at the studio for most of the weekend, Mandy. Deadlines, you know.”

"Huh, that’s interesting. Vanessa showed me the pictures you took over the weekend. Matter of fact--” she pulls out her phone and flips to the most incriminating one that clearly shows his face. “--she sent them to me. I also have a couple of you _eating her ass_? I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Michael.”

Michael puts his head in his hands. "She just wanted to _try--_ Wait, why the fuck did she tell you? You put a fucking gun to her head, huh? Did you fucking dangle her over a cliff?”

"No, because that’s something _you_ would do. But maybe she told me because she has a modicum of decency? Because she actually _cares_ about my feelings?”

"Mand, I was just... _look_ , you said you wanted to be a cuckquean, right? The thing with Mark went well, so I made you a cuckquean! You just... weren’t there to see it.”

"The stipulations are that you have to fucking _tell_ me and I have to _be_ there. I can’t _fucking_ believe you.”

"All right, all right, so I fucked up! But how do I know that you’re not doin’ the same?”

Amanda shoots a cold look at him. "Because I made a commitment to you not to cheat this time, and I still stand by that. Because I'm not a fucking _liar._ ” She whispers the last word, staring daggers into Michael’s blue eyes. Amanda grits her teeth and she storms up to the bedroom, muttering under her breath about what a fucking cheating, conniving asshole Michael is.

“ _Amanda,_ it’s not what you think! I thought we had an arrangement!” After hearing something resembling a “fuck you!” from Amanda, Michael grovels and grabs his car keys and slams the front door as he leaves.

\--------------

For the whole day, she tried to plan revenge to hit Michael exactly where it hurts. In the evening she finally realizes what she needs to do, as much as it isn’t ideal. She finds his contact on her phone and dials the number.

It rings enough times that Amanda almost regrets calling. Just before she gives up, he answers.

"Hello?” Trevor asks gruffly. Amanda doesn’t say anything. " _Helloooo_? Ron, if this is you on a second cell phone, I swear to fucking god I'll go over to your house and rip your--”

"Trevor, it’s me.” she says, cutting him off.

"Ohh, I recognize that voice anywhere. Lady Macbeth herself! How are you, _Mandy_?” The way he drags out her name makes her shiver, and not in the good way.

"I'm...fine.”  

"And how’s your piece of shit husband?”

"He’s fine.”

"Aaaand the lovely cherubs?”

"They’re fine.”

"Fine, fine ffffINE! isn’t this an interesting conversation? _Rreeaaall_ _riveting_. Why the fuck are you calling, huh? You need money to get new tits or somethin’?”

She scoffs. "No! you know what? Forget it, this was dumb for me to call--”

"Well, I can think of only a few times you’ve actually called me. Correct me if I'm wrong, but all of them had to deal with Michael. So just spit it out, okay? Got some product to move later tonight and I don’t want to fucking beat around the bush until then.”

Amanda doesn’t correct him.

She sighs. "Okay...Michael fucked my best friend--”

" _Sssso_? Why should I care?”

" _S_ _o_ ,” Amanda says sharply, "We made a promise to each other after I moved back in. A promise that was only relevant for six months, it seems. Fuck, maybe it was less than that. Maybe he never kept his pr--”

"Oh, Mandy! this is nothing new! A snake can’t change its skin!”

"Trevor, I think that phrase is wrong.”

"You know what I fuckin' mean, okay? But the question still remains: _why_ the fuck are you calling me?" 

"Well, I don’t think Michael realizes that this is a two way street.” Amanda hears a lighter over the phone. Trevor inhales.

There’s a pause as he exhales and the gears turn in his head. "What,” he coughs out, "You wanna fuck me or somethin’?”

There's a considerable pause on Amanda's side. “....Well, ‘want’ is the wrong word--”

Trevor laughs so loud that Amanda has to take her phone away from her ear.

" _O_ _oooh_ now _this!_ This is too fuckin' good. Y’know Mandy, I always thought you were into me. I saw the way you looked at me when you used to dance.”

"Oh, get over yourself!” Amanda replies with not much bite.

"Why didn’t we ever do this before?! It's so obvious! it’s the best way to stick it to that treacherous snake.”

"Um, because we hate each other?”

"Nothing like some good old hate sex to get the blood pumping again! I'm sure you’re an expert on it as well, given your turd of a husband. I could fuckin' swing by now, why bother wasting any time?”

"Trevor, _wait._ I'm not just asking you to fuck me, okay? We have to plan this out.”

"Wait a minute, wait wait wait. _Waaaaiit_. Is this connected to that thing Michael told me like a month ago? Cuckolding or what the fuck ever?” 

"Yes. Yes it is. Wouldn’t it be better if he were right there?”

"Who knew Amanda-Krystal de-Townley-Santa was so _fucking_ devious?! For the first time fucking ever, I'd say we’re on the same page.”

“Unbelievably and unfortunately, I guess we are. I’ll be in touch.”

"You sure will, _Maaandy_.” there’s a flick of a lighter over the phone. Amanda just hangs up.

She collapses onto her bed and stares up at the ceiling. "What am I even doing,” she says lowly.

\--------------

A few days later, Trevor and Amanda decide to meet up in person. They meet out in a park a few miles from her house. Appealing to her mysterious side, Amanda wears a trench coat, large sunglasses, and a dark scarf on her head. She shows up at the bench near the pond, just as they planned. She’s there first, but she sees Trevor leaning on the tiny bridge over to pond.

"HEY! INGRID BERGMAN, COME HERE!” Trevor yells at full volume, waving his arm over at Amanda. She hurries over to the bridge, her hands tucked in her pockets.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Don’t you know how to be lowkey about _anything_?” Amanda asks as soon as she gets to the tiny bridge.

Trevor seems to think about it for a fraction of a second. “...Nah, not really.” He decides, digging his thumbnail in between his bottom teeth.

Amanda scoffs and unties the scarf around her head. "Guess there’s no use for this.”

"There wasn’t a fuckin' use for a disguise in the first place. What, you have to be in a disguise in order to be around me?”

"I don’t _really_ need to answer that, do I?”

Trevor lets out a slight grumble.

They look out at the pond, which is filled with honking Canada geese. Trevor reaches in his pants pocket and pulls out a crushed packet of crackers and tosses it out to the geese. Amanda doesn’t even bother to ask why he's carrying around cracker packets. For a while they just watch the geese eat the crackers.

Amanda laughs a little. "Do you feel a personal connection with the Canadian geese?”

"First of all,” Trevor starts, "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Second of all, it’s _Canada_ geese. Not _Canadian_ geese.”

"All right, no need to be so fucking touchy! ...Want to go to the gazebo?” She points to the end of the bridge, changing the subject.

Trevor throws the rest of the cracker packet into the pond. "Sure.”

At the gazebo, Amanda sits across from Trevor and takes off her sunglasses. "So.” She looks into his bloodshot eyes.

" _Sssso_.” Trevor drums at his knees. "What’s your grand scheme?”

"Well, how about in a week you sneak in, I invite Michael to the bedroom and then after a few minutes--”

"Yeah yeah yeahyeahyeah, and then I come in, tie him up, fuck you, make Michael feel like shit, and so on. Real _complicated_ plan. Now, the real question is: _how should I fuck you_?”

"Why does that matter?”

"Think about it, Mandy. What would make him more angry? If I fucked you all _gentle_ ,” Trevor says in a high-pitched voice, "Or if we really just--” he pumps his arms and even thrusts a little to make his point.

Amanda pauses for a second. "Well...I guess gentle? Something romantic will make Michael squirm the most. I don’t know if I can do that with you though. It has to be _real_.”

Trevor scrunches up his face and nods, sucking at his teeth. "Okay, but how do you _want_ to be fucked?”

Amanda leans forward towards Trevor. " _Hard_.”

A mischievous smirk spreads across Trevor’s face. "Mmmm, now that’s what I want to hear.” He growls. “Should we practice beforehand?”

Amanda smiles back at him. "Hah, no. I don’t think we’ll need to practice. Hate sex is so easy for the both of us, you said it yourself! Oh, but I need to lay down some ground rules.”

"Such as?”  
  
"I want you to wear a condom.”

" _Arrrgh,_ why?”

"I don’t know where the hell your dick has been.”

" _Ohhh_ all over! My boy’s been in hookers, strippers, rent boys, valets, waiters --”

"Oooookay, that’s more than I wanted to--”

"Cops, husbands, a heated-up grapefruit, wives, Mr. Raspberry Jam, a few glory holes--”  
  
"Trevor, I said--”

“--a few bikers, truckers, midgets, grandmas--”  
  
"OKAY! Please stop!” Amanda cuts in. Before he stops listing his conquests, he says something that sounds like "your husband,” but Amanda just figures he’s trying to get a rise out of her. "Just please wear one, all right? I don’t want to contract anything.”

"Fuckin’ _fine_ , then. This better be worth it....” Trevor checks his watch and stands up. "S’that all?”

Amanda shrugs. "I guess so.”

"All right, see you around.” Trevor walks off onto the bridge.

"Trevor!” Amanda calls out. He looks back at her, but he continues to walk. "Take a fucking shower, okay?”

He does a half-assed salute and he walks off. Amanda waits until she can’t see him anymore, then she leaves the gazebo. 

\--------------

For the week leading up to the event, Amanda and Michael are civil with each other. They don’t talk about his cheating, and Amanda is careful with her words when she does talk to him. Things seem to slip back into the status quo. They don’t have sex, although Michael tries to initiate it a few times. He even plays some Barry White when Amanda’s washing the dishes one evening. He slides his hands around her waist and he asks her to go up to the bedroom in that low voice she loves. “C’mon, Mand, show me how much better you are than Vanessa. I know you are.” He says to her, wrapping his arms around her tighter. She brushes him off, making up the excuse that she’s tired from her yoga class. He sighs deeply, reluctantly slinking away to switch off the music. Amanda tells him she’s going to make it up to him soon.

\--------------

A couple days before the arrangement, Trevor sets aside a few hours to do some in-depth cleaning. He inspects his shower, but there’s only one bar of soap that has a few stray pubic hairs resting on it. Trevor knows that he needs to use more than just his trusty dick soap, so he goes to the porch to talk to his associate.

" _RON,_ go to the store and get some fancy soaps and loofahs and shit!” Trevor calls out from his trailer, his voice bouncing off of every run down trailer in the area.

"Wwwait, Trevor! W-what kind of soaps--”

"Did I fuckin’ stutter, Ron?! GO AND GET ME SOME FUCKIN’ SOAPS!”

"All right, I'm going I'm going!” Ron says as he rushes to his four wheeler and drives off to the store, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

About an hour later, Ron returns with a smorgasbord of flowery smelling soaps and fancy loofahs. Bathing technology has really advanced, it seems. It’s not that Trevor doesn’t like to shower, it’s just that it’s pretty low on his list of priorities. He’s pretty satisfied with showering weekly or bi-monthly, as his hygiene doesn’t affect him getting laid on a regular basis or making business deals.

He just decides to use every foam, gel, spray, washcloth, sponge, and scrub that Ron bought him. He doesn’t even touch his loyal bar of dick soap. His skin gets rubbed with the intensity of stripping paint off of a house. He scrubs his ass probably more than he should. He emerges from the shower, skin completely rubbed down and red, and he looks in the mirror. Might as well shave too, since his face is probably going to be buried between Amanda’s thighs. Normally he just shaves with water, not really caring about breaking his scabs open and bleed, but today he goes out in the living room to get some of the foamy flowery shit that Ron bought.

After shaving off every stray hair from his face, he gets his tattered towel and wipes any remaining foam off of his face. He makes the mistake of smelling the towel, which probably hasn’t been washed since he moved to Sandy Shores. He just throws it in the sink and steps out of the bathroom in the nude. What’s the point in trying to be modest?

Since he’s cleaner than he’s probably ever been, Trevor really starts to notice the foul smells of his abode. The mold, the lingering meth smell, rotting food, a faint scent of blood, and just a general smell of _dread_ fill his nose. For once in his life, he’s bothered by the smell of his place. When he did the bare minimum in terms of showering, his musk blended with his surroundings. He felt one with his domicile. Now that he smells like a bed of roses and fruits, he can’t stand it. He rushes to his closet to throw on some jeans so he can go outside to get some fresh air. Even his jeans carry the odor, but he puts them on anyway and he throws on a semi-clean t-shirt. Trevor goes outside to escape the air. Before he knows it, he finds himself driving in his Bodhi trying to find new clothes to look presentable for Amanda.

\--------------

Michael’s out at the studio, Tracey is out probably partying, and Jimmy is at a video game convention in Las Venturas with his online friends. It’s the perfect night for it to occur. Amanda calls Trevor to come over before Michael gets back.

Trevor bangs on the front door, but Amanda luckily is right there. She’s so paranoid it won’t work out completely that not even Olga’s yoga soundtrack won’t help her calm down.

She hurries Trevor in, her hand wrapped tightly around the collar of her fluffy robe. Her hair is up in one of those fancy towel up-dos. Trevor looks her up and down. "S’that what you’re wearing for this? Sorry to say, I'm not exactly _rising_ to the occasion.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. Amanda looks at Trevor also. It seems like he took a shower recently. His nails are clean and bitten down, and he doesn’t smell entirely musky. He looks like he stopped at a suburban nearby, because his outfit looks so clean. She couldn’t help but feel glad that he actually listened to her demand. "You look nice, though.”

" _Reeeeally?_ This gettin’ you goin’, Mandy?” He strikes a pose against the stair banister.

"Oh my god, don’t flatter yourself too much.” She rolls her eyes and goes past him up the stairs. "Michael will be home in around half an hour and I need to get ready. And just…try not to break anything in the meantime, okay?”

"As you wish, your majesty!” Trevor calls out in a mock-English accent.

\--------------

Amanda sits at her vanity as she straightens her hair. She looks at her outfit, a slinky pink slip and not much else. _What am I even doing_ , she thinks to herself once again. It’s too late to turn back now.

When she’s done gussying up for the night, she texts Michael: _hey babe, when you leave the studio let me know. I have quite the surprise for you when you get home._ She adds a tongue emoji with an eggplant emoji, just to make sure her message isn’t misconstrued.

She gets a response a minute or so later. _Leaving the studio now. Can’t wait for your surprise._

The message is pretty succinct and bland, mostly because Michael’s not good at sexting (much to Amanda’s chagrin).

Amanda rushes downstairs to find Trevor looking through their fridge. "What’s all this kale shit, huh? And fuckin’... _queen_ - _oh-a_? Seaweed?! Jesus, don’t you have any _real_ food in here?” He asks, not looking over at Amanda.

"Mm, sorry that there’s no brains or intestines or actual garbage to eat, Trevor.” Amanda says, resting against the island.

"Oh ha-ha, so _clever_.” He slams the fridge door and turns around to face Amanda. "Y’know, I eat more than just--” He stops to look at Amanda’s outfit. Her silk slip is a deep pink and it’s definitely meant to be taken off rather than used as an _actual_ article of clothing. Trevor looks her up and down, a lecherous grin growing on his face. "O- _kay_.” He says as he continues to stare. Amanda crosses her arms. 

"So judging by your ogling, it’s good?”

"If there was ever an outfit that I would want a guy’s wife to wear while I fuck her and he watches, it’s this one.”

Amanda smiles a bit at that. "Thanks, I think? I found it way back in my closet. It’s pure silk.”

"Hmm, might have to find one like that for myself…” Trevor mutters to himself. Like most things that Trevor says or does, Amanda figures it’s better not to ask.

"Michael will be here any minute, so I just came down to get you so you can hide.”

Trevor just nods slightly and follows Amanda upstairs, staring at her shapely ass the whole way up.

"Trevor, could you _stop_ fucking staring? It’s really creepy.” Amanda asks, undoubtedly feeling his gaze burn into her.

"Augh, _fine_ , okay.” he says, changing his gaze only to partially looking at Amanda’s ass.

"So, I was thinking you can hide maybe behind the door? Or in the closet?”

"Mmm, probably closet. Less suspicious.”

The front door opens downstairs. "Amanda?” Michael calls out.

" _Quick, hide!”_ She hurries him to the closet and lays seductively on the bed, waiting for Michael to come upstairs. "I'm in the bedroom!” She calls out lightly.

From the sounds of his footsteps, it sounds like Michael is running up the stairs. He barges through the door and stops when he sees Amanda splayed out on the bed. She’s posed as a centerfold. "Hello Michael,” she says sensually.

Michael smiles at her and leans over her on the bed. He tips her head up to kiss her. "Well, what’s the occasion?” he asks, his lips right against hers. She can smell the scotch on his breath.

"No reason.” she smiles and kisses him. "The kids are out of the house, so I figured now we could have some fun.”

"So you _are_ making it up to me.” he kisses her deeply, and moves to sucking on her neck. Her hands roam to the hem of his shirt and she takes it off for him. He steps back and unbuttons his pants, trying his hardest not to stumble while stepping out of them. She looks over to the closet, where Trevor has the door slightly open. He’s waiting for her approval. She gives a small nod before grabbing his face and pulling him back into a messy kiss. He moans slightly into her mouth as he attempts to crawl on the bed.

Trevor sneaks over to the bed, for once making an effort to be subtle. He puts Michael into a headlock and pulls him away from the bed. Trevor loses his footing and he and Michael fall to the floor. "WHAT THE FUCK, TREVOR?! WHY ARE YOU -- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Michael yells out. Amanda, with her legs tucked under her, watches the pathetic scene from the edge of the bed.

"Well, _Mikey_ ,” he strains as he stands up while also hoisting Michael up with him, "Mandy and I cooked up a plan.”

He scoffs. "Okay, what? A plan to kill me? For you to take my family and my house? So you can bury me and then piss on my grave?”

"Noooo no nonono, sweet lumps, not today.” Trevor has him incapacitated for the time being by holding his arms at his sides. Michael struggles to break free, but he underestimates Trevor’s strength. Stringy cannibalistic meth addicts are way stronger than they look. "Amanda, do you have any restraints of any sort?” 

"Seriously! what the fuck is this?” Michael yells out, trying to shake Trevor off of him. Amanda looks in the end table on her side. After sifting through the romance novels, lubes, and inconspicuous vibrators, she finds a pair of handcuffs that they used to use when Amanda roleplayed for Michael as a sexy cop. She tosses Trevor the handcuffs. In the second he has to let go of Michael to catch them, Michael breaks free of his grip and backs away from the two of them.

"Come on, Michael. Don’t be like this.” Amanda says softly, trying to calm Michael down. "You’re supposed to be a good cuckold. You were last time.”

Michael's eyes dart between Amanda and Trevor. He points at Amanda. "No. No, _NO_. There’s no way you’re fucking my best friend,” he directs his attention over to Trevor, "And YOU’RE not fucking my wife.”

"And why was it any different for you? You fucked Vanessa. You know, _my_ best friend?” Amanda says, tone turning cold.

"Please, Amanda, I'll do, I'll do-- anything. I'll never cheat on you again, I'll--I'll pay for renovations on the house. I’ll even do fucking _yoga_ with you! Please, _please_ , don’t do this--”

"Michael,” Amanda says, "I left with the children for….how long? And you still didn’t change. Maybe this is the only way to get it through your head not to cross me.”

"Mand, did Trevor put you up to this? Is he trying to take advantage of the situation?” Michael’s desperate to stall.

"Ah haa, amigo, this is all Amanda’s idea.” He steps closer to the two of them, fiddling with the handcuffs. "I'm only taking advantage of watching you squirm like the snake you are.” He leaps at Michael and manages to wrap one of the handcuff links around Michael’s wrist. 

"NO--” Michael calls out, trying to push Trevor away with his free hand. He realizes that this is a dumb move, because Trevor latches the other handcuff onto his hand after having to manhandle him a bit.

"Put him in the chair over there,” Amanda directs Trevor. He practically drags Michael to sit in the chair, his arms behind him. "We need something else,” she thinks aloud.

“...Got any rope? If not, I have some in my ol’ Betty outside. Never know when you’ll need it.” Trevor muses.

Amanda looks through the drawer for any binding. "Nope, nothing.”

" _Aaaaall_ right, I'll be back.” Trevor takes his hands off Michael’s shoulders. "You better fuckin stay there, pork chop. And _you--_ ” he says, pointing at Amanda, "Better be ready for me.”

"Don’t worry, I _will be._ ” she smirks at him. After he leaves the room, she looks back over at Michael.

“...Mandy, what the fuck? I thought you hated Trevor.”

"So?” She doesn’t bother specifying that she hates him less than she did before all this, for the fear of making Michael less miserable.

" _S_ _o_ why are you doing this?”

"To prove a point. Two can play at this game.”

He hangs his head in shame and sighs. "There’s no way I'm gettin’ out of this, am i?”

She laughs slightly. "Nnnnope.” She gets off the bed and stands in front of him, commanding his attention.

“...You look really great.” he says sadly.

"Mm, so you like?” She poses for him, leaning against one of the bedposts. "Too bad. This isn’t for you.” She starts to rub her hands all over her body, ending over her pussy. " _This_ isn’t for you,” She says pointedly as she touches herself. She tugs her straps down a little, showing off a glimpse of her nipples. " _These_ aren’t for you.” She turns around and lifts up her short nightgown to show off her bare ass. Michael groans at this move, suddenly regretting eating Vanessa’s ass instead of her’s. "And _this_ especially isn’t --”

Trevor comes back in the room with a few loops of rope. "Getting started without me, are you?”

Amanda stands up straight and puts her nightgown down. "No, just making him want what he can’t have.”

Trevor nods and goes over to Michael, wrapping the rope around him. "You gotta piss or anything?”

Michael grunts out a "no.”

"Good, I really don’t give a fuck if you do.” He finishes off his knot on the thick rope. "You know, I think you should be closer to us, Mikey.” He pulls the chair closer to the bed, filling the room with a terrible screech as the chair legs drag against the floor. "That seems about right, don’t ya think Mandy?”

"Yeah, I'd say so.” There’s a "safe” distance from Michael to the bed. Trevor gets behind Amanda, closing the distance between the two of them. He swipes her hair to the other side and starts making soft bites on her neck, his hands roaming all over her body. Amanda rests her head against Trevor’s shoulders. Michael is staring so intently at the two of them, eyes completely dark with anger.

Trevor flips Amanda around to face him, and they go in for a kiss. Amanda can only detect the faintest meth taste, at least that’s what she thinks it is, but otherwise he doesn’t taste like death. It must have taken some Herculean strength to get him to wash up so nicely. Probably took _hours_. Loathe as she is to admit it, it’s not hard for Amanda to sink into the kiss. He’s good with his mouth, and she even moans a little. His hands tug at the straps of her slip, and she starts to unbutton his clothes. He pushes her hands away and just rips his shirt off, buttons falling onto the ground.

He pulls Amanda against his body tighter and goes back into the kiss, more intense this time. He frees her tits from the slip, which his hands immediately go to. He breaks the kiss to look down at them. "I meant what I said about your new tits, Mandy. They’re _niiiice_.” Trevor mutters before taking one of her nipples into her mouth, lightly biting around the nub. Amanda has her hands against the back of his head, smushing his face into her chest. She looks at Michael in the corner of her eyes, even more angry than he was before. She has never seen him angrier, and that includes when he caught her with the tennis coach. He’s biting his lip and he’s trying to get out of the knot to no prevail.

Trevor pulls the slip up past her waist, kneeling in front of her. He looks back up at her before roughly pulling her crotch to his face. Amanda gasps at this. She tilts her pelvis forward and rests her shoulderblades back against the bedpost. She puts up one of her legs on the bed frame, allowing Trevor to get closer to her clit. "Ah! Ah, _fffuck!_ ” Amanda moans out. Trevor pulls his mouth away from her and slicks a couple of his fingers before returning to her. He slips one of his fingers into her, which she gasps at. He curls his fingers right against her g spot as he works at her clit. Her orgasm escapes her before she realizes it. She looks over at Michael as she cums against Trevor’s tongue and fingers. He doesn’t hold her gaze for long, as it’s hard to focus on anything but coming down from her orgasm.

Michael shifts in his seat, trying to loosen out of the knot. "Stop doin’ that, amigo.” Trevor groans out, pulling his attention away from Amanda. "There’s no fuckin’ use in trying to get out of this.” He’s about to walk over to tie the knot even tighter, but Amanda grabs his belt loops and swings him back around towards her. She looks over at Michael and winks at him. Amanda rubs the bulge in Trevor’s pants before getting off the bed and kneeling down in front of him, unzipping his fly.

Michael uses his legs to drag the chair closer to the two of them. "No, no, no no! Amanda, you can’t fuckin’ do this! Please!”

Amanda looks over at him, still rubbing at Trevor’s bulge through his jeans. "Why not? You didn’t mind watching me suck Mark’s cock.”

"B-because! that was just a guy! This is _Trevor!_ ” he strains out.

"Exactly.” Amanda just says before taking out Trevor’s cock.

"I mean--” His eyes dart between the two of them. Michael’s about an arm’s length away. "Do you really _want_ to? Who knows where the fuck his cock has been. It’s probably infected.”

Trevor pulls away from Amanda and gets close to Michael. "What are you sayin’, Mikey? Do--do you want to do the honors of sucking my cock?”

Michael scrunches up his face. " _No!_  Ijust don’t want _my fuckin' wife_ suckin' your cock!”

Trevor straightens up, absentmindedly stroking himself. "Well, _someone’s_ going to have to suck my cock, and I can’t suck myself off--trust me, I've tried _maaany_ times-- and you’re the only mouth left here.”

There’s a beat. “...Mand, you can suck his cock." 

"Nah, I don’t want to.” Amanda says in an aloof tone, examining her pink nails.

" _What?!_ ”

She looks up at him as if she forgot the situation. "Well, you said it yourself. I shouldn’t let my pristine mouth near his dick.” She flicks her eyes towards Trevor, expecting anger but instead is met with a mischievous grin from him. "A good cuckold should do it.”

Michael goes pale and shakes his head violently. "No, no, NO! Don’t do this to me!”

"Oh, like you’ve been nothing but a saint to me? Let’s see, you’ve cheated on me countless times, I've been held at gunpoint, I've had to cut contact with all of my friends and family from the midwest to keep up this ruse you’ve had, I've feared for our lives more times than I can count, you fucked my best friend-- need I go on? The _least_ you can do for me is suck a cock for like, a few seconds.”

Michael’s eyes avert away from Amanda’s. He looks at Trevor, and then down at his cock, still hard as can be. "C’mon Michael, be a good cuckold for me.” Amanda pleads.

Trevor steps in ever closer. "Yeah _Mikey_ , show your wife how _good_ you can be.” he’s looking down at Michael with all hunger. One of his hands grabs the back of Michael’s head, moving him closer to his cock. Michael gulps a little before tentatively parting his lips, just barely letting the tip of Trevor’s cock into his mouth. He grimaces and pushes back on the chair to move away from Trevor, but Trevor’s foot catches one of the legs of the chair before he can scootch back far enough. "Now, that’s no way for a cuckold to behave, is it, Amanda?”

"Definitely not, Trev.” she’s peeking around Trevor’s side, her hand on his arm. "Michael, do this for me, please?”

"FUCKIN’ FINE, OKAY? You want me to be a good cuck? Let me show you how good of a fuckin’ _cuck_ I can be--” Michael yells out before taking all of Trevor into his mouth. He now figures that if he can’t get out of it, he’ll be the best cuckold there is. It’s natural for Michael to be competitive and hot-headed, and he never realizes the consequences when he’s so worked up. This is the first time that his dumb actions have landed him with a cock practically down his throat. Trevor’s hand is pressed hard against the back of his head.

" _Ooooh_ ffffuck, Mikey.” Trevor moans out. “‘Manda, I'd say your husband’s a natural born cock sucker. Good _god_ that’s nice.” Amanda turns Trevor’s face towards hers and kisses him as Michael is sucking his cock. Trevor takes his hands off of Michael and instead focuses on Amanda’s neglected body. Trevor breaks the kiss and looks back down at Michael in all his glory. He drags his hand around Amanda’s lower back, finally settling onto her ass. Trevor just curses and pulls Amanda back into a kiss.

Trevor starts to fuck into Michael’s mouth before Michael manages to pull away, leaving a long sopping trail of saliva. He’s breathing hard and sputtering, looking over at Amanda. "Mm, ya could have stopped way sooner, but I'm so glad ya didn’t. You seemed right at home suckin’ by boy off, Michael.” Trevor says.

"Fuck you,” Michael says without anything behind it. A trail of saliva is dripping out of his mouth.

"Heh, some talk for someone who was just deep-throating my cock...” Trevor goes over to the bed, stumbling out of his pants and kicking off his boots and socks. He pulls out a condom from his jean pocket and rips the packet open.

Amanda grabs Michael’s hair and pulls his face up towards hers, kissing him deeply. "You were good, babe.” she says quietly for only Michael to hear. She then smacks Michael, surprising him more than hurting him. "But you don’t talk to him that way!”

"Oh, I can hit him?” Trevor asks, rolling a condom on.

"Mmm, I have more of a reason to, so no.” She looks down at Michael, his cheek reddening from the slap.

"Ama-- _you_ have more of a reason to? _Really_? Come on, this fucking snake tried to have me killed and made me work with those FIB fuckers. Not to MENTION--" 

"One hit.” she says, standing over Michael. Michael looks up at her.

"Three hits.” Michael grunts out. Posturing, naturally.

"Ohh, you’re going to regret that, M.” Trevor strides over, his cock bouncing with every step. Michael is unfazed at this point.

"C’mon T, punish me.” Michael grins, finally settling into the role he was meant for in this scenario.

Trevor looks at Amanda for a brief second. She gives a little nod. Trevor gives Michael an open palmed smack on the same cheek that Amanda slapped. The noise practically echoes through the house. "Oh, s’that it?” Michael grunts out, trying hard to act like half of his face isn’t burning. "Go on, do it again.”

This time, Trevor punches Michael in the corner of his mouth. Luckily, his lip doesn’t split from it. Michael just looks back at him with a grin. Trevor holds his gaze for a second before presenting Michael to Amanda as if he were a prize. "Aaand my lady gets the honors for the last hit.”

Amanda does a tiny curtsey before roughly backhanding Michael’s other cheek. Michael groans out a little, clenching his jaw. "All right, enough messing around with this waste of space. Let’s do this.” She goes over to the bed. "Do you need a ‘refresher?’” She looks over at Trevor’s cock to see if it’s still hard.

"Still at full capacity!” Trevor says proudly. "The fluffer here needs a break anyway.” He motions to Michael.  Trevor grabs the armrest of the chair and brings Michael closer to the bed. "Gotcha some front row seats, M.”

"Oh yeah, thanks.” Michael sarcastically says back, his face still red from the hits.

Trevor climbs on the bed and crawls over to Amanda, who is lying in the same seductive pose that Michael saw when he stepped into the room. "I think _you’re_ a little attention-starved, though.” He goes back down to bury his face between Amanda’s thighs. He eats her out for a while, enough to get her back to where she was before. "Mmh, deeee-licious.” Trevor says, his voice muffled between her legs. "So fuckin’ good; don’t know why your turd of a husband would have anyone else.” Amanda moans in agreement, pushing his mouth closer to her.

Trevor suddenly pulls away from her and brings her up on her knees, finally pulling off her silk slip. His hands roam all over her body, with his mouth trailing not far behind. "I want to--” he pauses before putting his mouth back on her tits, “--fuck you ssso badly.”

She laughs slightly, her fingers lightly brushing his shoulders. "Well, what are you waiting for?” with that, Trevor flips her over until she’s on all fours and he shoves into her at once. His breath hitches for a moment, and it’s met with an encouraging moan from Amanda.

“Fan- _tas_ -tic, _fffuck_ ,” Trevor moans out. His hips slap against Amanda’s ass rhythmically, each sound making Michael more and more uneasy. "Amanda, look over at your piece of shit husband for me,” Trevor groans.

Amanda complies, moaning softly. She smiles back at Michael, whose face is slightly red from earlier, as she’s getting pounded by Trevor. "You love this, don’t you Michael?” She asks. Michael is stone faced as he watches the scene before him.

"How the fuck could--”

Before he can fully retaliate, Trevor jumps in and says, "Manda, you don’t even have to ask that. Look at the fuckin’ chub he has in his boxers!” She angles herself to look down the bedframe at him. Michael shifts his hips a little and crosses his legs in an attempt to hide his erection. Judging from Amanda’s expression, she saw. Trevor mutters to Amanda, "He just loves watching you get _exactly_ what you need.” He gives her ass a rough slap before picking up his pace slightly.

"Fuck, that’s so--! Fucking good!” Amanda moans, pushing herself down onto her elbows. Trevor thrusts for about another minute until he pulls out, much to Amanda’s chagrin. "Noooo, come back!” she whines.

"Gimme a second, okay? I'm fuckin’ tired.” Trevor sits on the edge of the bed, catching his breath.

"What, you’re not used to fucking for more than 4 minutes? Too many amphetamines messin’ with your stamina?” Michael laughs out before he can stop himself. Trevor takes a few steps over to him and socks him square in his eye. "FUCK, goddamnit T!”

"Like you can do any better, M? You pathetic impotent _fuck--”_

Amanda isn’t even sure who to scold first, so she just grabs Trevor’s wrist and leads him back onto the bed. “ _He started it_.” Trevor grumbles before Amanda pushes him back onto the bed.

He falls back, and she climbs over top of him, settling onto his cock. "Mmmh, that’s nice,” she breathes out, her rhythm slow and languid.

"It _suuuure_ is, Amanda.” Trevor says, his hands finding their way back to her tits. He makes small bites at her collarbone, which Amanda encourages by her small gasps. He eventually goes to grab her ass, pushing against her to increase the pace. Amanda moans out a little bit more, one of her hands snaking between the two of them to rub at her clit. 

"Ya like this, M? Me fuckin’ your wife? Y’know--ahh, fuck, Amanda! keep riding my boy _juuust_ like that--”

Amanda continues with Trevor’s assumed train of thought. "Even though we hate each other--”

"I dunno, Mand -- _fuck_ \-- this is makin’ me hate you a _looot_ less --”

"Regardless! Even though we can’t really stand each other, we still wanted to do this because we like seeing you _miserable_.” she rocks her hips against Trevor deeply, groaning out more.

"The only thing better than fuckin’ you right now is looking over and seeing your sad excuse of a husband despising every second of this.” his hips start to thrust up into her, their moans in sync. Michael just shifts in his seat, trying to get some friction to take care of his erection.

Amanda grabs Trevor’s wrists off from her ass and forces them above his head, pinning him down to the bed. She grinds down upon him, her hips working into a fervor.

"Y’know Trevor, I remember when the other girls I worked with called you a one pump chump.” Amanda says sensually, as if her tone will remove the insult. Michael can’t help but snicker.

Trevor tries to shake his wrists from her grasp, but there was no use. Not that Trevor honestly minds being pinned down like this. "I was a kid back then, all right? Excuse the fuck out of me.” He says in a genuinely offended tone.

"I'm just saying I'm glad that’s not the case anymore. At least, for me you’re not like that.” Amanda replies, letting go of his wrists.

"Ohh, that was a big mistake that you did that, _Mandy_ \--” Trevor groans out, grabbing onto her hips. He digs his fingers into her sides and lifts his hips off the bed.

"Ah! Ahhhhh yes!” Amanda moans, looking over at Michael, "You’re so _good_ , fuck! You know how to fuck me!” At this point, Michael isn’t insulted. He’s more so trying to work his hands out of the cuffs so he can truly enjoy it.

"Amanda, Amanda, could you get these fuckin’ cuffs off me?” Michael says, squirming in his chair again. The two of them act like he’s not even there. "Hey!”

"Shut the _fuck_ up, cupcake! Your lady wants to enjoy this, so stop tryin’ to ruin it for her!” Trevor yells, still focused on Amanda. She hits the peak of an orgasm, bringing her chest down against Trevor’s. She wraps her arms around his neck as she rides it out, grinding her hips against his. Her moans are muffled against Trevor’s neck. "That good, huh?”

Amanda just breathes out a laugh before she exhales deeply and unwraps her arms from Trevor’s neck. She rocks her hips lazily against Trevor’s.

"Amanda, p-please--” Michael whimpers.

" _What_? Can’t you see I’m fucking busy? And vice versa?”

"Just let me out of the handcuffs, okay? Who knew fuckin’ sex shop handcuffs were so durable...” Michael starts to struggle in his chair again, trying to find a weak spot in either the rope or the handcuffs.

"I thought you took those from a cop? Or are you thinking of someone else you’ve slept with?”

"I don’t, I don’t -- please, Mandy, get me out of these cuffs!” Michael struggles out. 

Trevor scoffs. "Why the fuck should she? So you can try to fuck her and inevitably disappoint her?”

"He has a point, Michael. I thought you wanted to be a good cuckold? When we used to roleplay that sexy cop scenario, you were _to-tally_ _fine_ with being tied up and cuffed.” 

"Now _that_ I would like to see…” Trevor mutters, his calloused hands running over her curves.

"I just! ….It hurts.”

"Wait, this coming from the guy who was _allegedly_ beaten by Cheng’s gang and chained upside down? You really have become soft if you can’t handle like an hour of being tied up and cuffed.” Michael ignores him.  

"It’s not my wrists that hurt, Mand.” Amanda looks over at her husband’s cock. There’s a large wet spot of precum at the front of his boxers. She looks into his sad eyes and thinks for just a moment.

"Not yet.” Amanda says.

" _M_ _ _andy_ , please! _ I won’t cheat on you _ever_ again, fuck, I've learned my lesson, okay--I won’t even go to strip clubs or fuckin’ anything like that. I won’t even _look_ at another woman--just-- just _please_ \--”

" _We’re_ not done yet. It’s extremely rude for you to try to rush us, Michael.” Amanda explains matter-of-factly.

"FUCK THIS!” Michael says, trying one last time to escape from his confines. His skin is starting to become red with rope burn, and his wrists are developing distinct handcuff marks. He then tries to scootch the chair to Amanda’s end table to find a the keys to the cuffs, but Amanda is ready. She’s kneeling in front of him, holding onto the legs of the chair. Trevor is holding the back of the chair, keeping him firmly in place. Michael is yelling all sorts of "fuck yous, and fuck this, and fuck everything,” but it doesn’t really phase either of them.

"You’re lucky I didn’t gag you, you _inconsiderate_ shit,” she says coldly. Her eyes flick upwards towards Trevor and she cocks her head slightly as a command. He comes around to her side of the chair. She looks back at Michael, sweating and distraught. "I was going to be nice, but you had to be impatient like the miserable bastard you are.” Trevor, grinning ear to ear, kneels behind her and pushes himself back into Amanda. She moans slightly, "Since you can’t fucking wait, I think I need to teach you patience and gratitude. She rests against his lap, _so close_ to his cock. She just continues to look up at him as Trevor forces himself deeper into her.

"There, is that better?” she asks, one of her fingers ghosting over the head of his cock.

"Agh, _no--_ ” Michael tries to buck into her touch, but he’s met with her nails digging deep into his thighs. Michael inhales sharply. "Amanda--”

Trevor just laughs out at this scene, thrusting deeper into Amanda. She moans and takes her eyes off of Michael.

After some time -- an agonizingly long time for Michael -- Trevor’s rhythm slows. "Amanda, I'm gonna---” Trevor struggles out, his breath against the nape of her neck.

She looks up at Michael. "Trevor, Trevor, my mouth.” She smirks back at Michael.

Before Trevor can ask about her change of heart, he’s already pulled off the condom with a _snap_ and he’s standing over Amanda, jerking off furiously.

"Ah! I love you, I love you, I love you love _you--love---_!” He moans out with a full body shake before spilling his load into Amanda’s mouth. She looks up at Trevor and tries not to grimace at the taste of his cum. If she ever has to do this again, she’s going to enforce a strict diet of pineapple for him. 

Amanda turns around and spits the cum at Michael. It hits his face with a _splat_. "AUGH, what the FUCK--” he yells out. Trevor, still holding onto his softening cock, bursts out laughing.

"Where the fuck are your _manners_ , Mikey?” Trevor asks him as he shakes off the last drop of cum out. "Didn’t your mother tell you not to waste anything?” Michael just glares back as Trevor’s cum runs down his face and onto his chest.

Amanda stands and goes to her end table, pulling out the handcuff keys. Before uncuffing him, she manages to get the knot of the rope off of him. She goes to the back of the chair and uncuffs Michael.

Michael falls to the floor and one of his marked up hands instantly goes toward his dick. He can’t even focus on anything else but chasing his long overdue orgasm. It only takes a few strokes before he’s coming on the hardwood floor with a long groan. He’s shaking after it, not only from the waves of his orgasm but also the release of the restraints. Amanda and Trevor have already started getting dressed. She just gets back into her slip, and Trevor wipes his slightly slick hands against Michael’s discarded shirt. He can’t even work up the energy to get angry.

"Ugh, Michael, clean that up. It’s going to stain the floor.” Amanda, wrapping herself back up in her fluffy robe, says with a grimace. Michael just sighs and uses his soiled shirt to clean up his cum off the floor. Flipping the dress shirt inside out, Michael wipes off his face and chest, making careful measures not to hurt his bruised eye. He stands up off the floor slowly, his legs gone numb from sitting in the chair. He’s exhausted and he doesn’t even know what to do next, so he just goes and rests on the bed.

"I'd say that went pretty fuckin’ well, don’t-cha think?” Trevor asks, trying to button up his shirt and forgetting that most of them are gone after being pulled off in a fit of passion. He shrugs and just leaves his shirt unbuttoned.

Amanda smirks back at him. "It sure did. I hope my husband learned his lesson.” She looks over at Michael, lying limply on the bed.

He scoffs as he ties the laces on his boots. “Fuckin’ doubt it. Like I said before Mandy, a snake can’t change its skin.” Trevor’s tying his boots up.

"And like _I_ said before, that’s not the right phrase.” Amanda extends out the rope to Trevor.

"Well, if ya need me again for this kinda stuff--” Trevor grumbles out, grabbing the rope from her hand. "I’ll be around.” He gives her ass a smack, which Amanda gasps at, before heading towards the bedroom door. "Be good, _Mikey. O_ r don’t, I don’t fuckin’ care.” Michael gives Trevor the middle finger before his hand falls limply back on the bed. Michael and Amanda, frozen in their spots, listen to Trevor’s heavy footsteps as they go down the stairs and out the front door. The door slams and Amanda makes her way over to her husband.

"Hey, Michael,” she says, her hand resting gently on his marked wrist. "Get up.”

"What, are you going to peg me now or something?”

She scoffs. "Agh, no! nothing like that. Not today at least. C’mon, let’s take a bath.” he looks back at her skeptically. "I'm serious,” she says softly, wrapping her hand around his wrist. With a groan, he gets off the bed.

Amanda turns on the water for the bath. It’s one of those fancy bathtubs with jets, the kind that fits more than one person. It was one of the requirements that Amanda had when they moved to Los Santos. She removes Michael’s boxers and tries to help him into the tub. "All right, Mandy, I'm not that old. I can step into the tub without your help.”

"Well _fuck me_ for being nice, Michael.” she says sourly. She disrobes and steps into the other side of the bathtub.

"Trust me, I would have if you let me.” He mumbles, sinking into the tub. Amanda curls up next to him and wraps her arms around him, gently massaging his marked up stomach.

"What is this, Mandy? Why are you being so nice?”

"Well,” she puts her legs on his lap, "This is called aftercare.”

He strokes her legs under the water. " _Oka_ _y_ , and what is that?”

"Trevor and I were rough on you,” says, rubbing at his rope burned chest and inspecting his swollen eye. "So now this is ‘you’ time, or a slow way of coming back to the real world.”

"So what you’re saying is I can do what I want now?”

"Within reason,” she says after a bit of hesitation.

"Hm, all right.” He reaches over and turns on the jets. Michael sighs out and sinks into the tub a bit more, all the while stroking Amanda’s legs.

"That’s all you want to do?”

"What, were you expecting something else?”

"I never know with you. For a split second I thought you were going jump out of the tub to chase Trevor down and kill him.”

"Nah, nah. I mean, I was thinkin’ about it when he was fucking you, but not now.”

Amanda laughs slightly. "That’s good you’re not going to skin him alive. You know, Michael--”

"What?”

"You’ll probably deny it, cause that’s the kind of guy you are, but you really seemed to enjoy it.”

Michael rests his head on the edge of the tub and closes his eyes. "It wasn’t the worst sexual experience I've had.”

"What _is_ your worst sexual experience?”

He thinks for a second, flipping through the slideshow of all bad sex scenarios he’s had. "Before I met you, I take this one girl back to the hotel for the night. We're both shitfaced, and so she’s on top of me and she just pukes all over me. I start gagging, and I practically throw her off of me. She’s crying on the floor, I'm rushing to the bathroom to get rid of all the shitty booze from earlier that night. When I come out of the bathroom, she’s just dry heaving and crying.”

"Jesus, Michael--”

"No, that’s not all! She sees me come back out, and she says with her vomit-covered mouth: ‘can we still fuck?’”

"Oh my god!” Amanda exclaims, covering her face with her hands. "Please tell me you didn’t fuck her.”

"No! Of course not.” Michael lies, just to save a little bit of face. "What about you?”

"Oh _god_ , Michael, I've had _so many_ bad experiences--”

"Besides with me, right?” Michael says with a smirk.

"That goes without saying.” Amanda reaches over Michael to turn down the jets to the lowest setting. "God, I'm just trying to think -- oh! okay, I got one. It was actually my first time.”

"Oh, Jesus, I know where this is going--”

"Have you ever seen _The Shining_ , Michael? Cause it was like the elevators. _And_ his parents walked in on us because they heard him screaming.”

Michael just laughs. "Thinking about all the bad times I've had, I'd say tonight was pretty fuckin’ good..." 

"Oh really?” She asks, sitting completely on his lap now. "Even though you had to suck Trevor off?”

"Yeah, even with that part. Although if my teeth rot out of my mouth tomorrow, send Trevor my dental bills.”

"I'll make sure to if that happens. You’re shaping up to be a good cuckold, babe.”

"Ya think so?”

She kisses his cheek. "Of course. Sorry about the injuries, though.”

"Ah, it’s nothing that I can’t handle. I'll just make up a story for the kids if they ask about it.”

"Did you learn your lesson, though?”

"Abso-fuckin-lutely. If I do it again, I bet you’ll just castrate me or somethin’. I don’t want to take that risk.”

"You got that right.”  
  
"I hope your yoga classes won’t be weird, y’know, cause of Vanessa.”

"Nah, she’s still my friend. She’s probably too scared to even come close to either of us though, for very different reasons.”

Michael shrugs at it. "Ah, well, her ass wasn’t that great anyway.” Amanda scoffs back at him.

There’s a little bit of time where the two of them hold each other, listening to the jets in the tub.

"Michael--”

"Hm?” He asks, eyes still closed.

"You may be a cheating, lying, pathetic husband, but I love you.”

A small smile appears on Michael’s face. "I love you too, Mand.” She tucks her head into the crook of his neck. It might just be the afterglow and the aftercare, but for a moment Amanda feels that everything is going to work out just fine.

 


End file.
